On the road again

So, finally I'm back on my bike again and bloody hell, how I've missed old Gerty. I got back from Sydney two nights ago, three day drive there, hour and a half flight back  and was good to go this morning. 

I spent yesterday morning doing a few jobs - like collecting a new tyre that Gordon had ordered for his bike. Mine still has plenty of tread but will need replacing by the time I get to Perth, so as this one was there, I got it to save a wait elsewhere. 

That done, I spent yesterday afternoon on the beach at Brighton, doing a bit of yoga cum Pilates cum stretching, then had paddle in the lovely green blue flat warm water. However a bloke got eaten by a shark near here two weeks ago,so I was very wary and made sure I stayed nearer the beach than other swimmers. As it was, I did get chewed by a crab but nothing serious. Cheeky chancer grabbed the side of my foot as I splashed by.

In the evening I packed my stuff then climbed up to a lookout on one of the hills around Adelaide. Very steep but magnificent views across the whole city to the ocean from the top, so worth every heart straining step. And it was downhill on the way back so win win!

So I'm now heading up to the Barossa valley via Handorf, the oldest German village in Australia.

 A bit touristy and with more coffee shops than you can shake a strudel at but nice nonetheless. And hurdey gurdey music wafting through the gums, which is a bit surreal. Very like an oddly out of place north European Christmas market on the other side of the  world and not at Christmas.

Settled as a result of religious persecution in Prussia in the early 1800s, many Old Lutherans left home and travelled to Australia. The first lot left from Hamburg and joined others from across what we now know as Germany, sailing to South Australia via England aboard the Zebra.

There is some odd art work along the streets now, nestled amongst the German flags and shops. 

 But even more surprising is the German WW1 canon on display in the main street. Not surprising because it's here but because it was captured by the French! Yes, the French! Must have been very early on though and before somebody sounded their running away tune.

As I parked and took my riding gear off, people stopped  to ask me questions about what I was up to, the bike, my riding gear, where I'd been, and where I was going next. It's so cool to meet people like that; I love it. It just doesn't happen with four wheels, unless maybe it's a full blown 4wd rig. It's the bike thing - even non riders are drawn to them, and a postie bike is something everybody here knows. But a postie travel bike seems to really excite them and stir their curiosity. Brilliant. 

So I've now had enough of ' tulips from bloody Amsterdam' playing in my ear, so I'm going wandering. More photos later as and when I get a signal capable of uploading images. 

TTFN!